


Picture of You

by MathClassWarfare



Series: We’ve Got Plenty of Time [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Canon Related, Friendship, Gen, Post-Canon, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-21 02:37:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16150769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MathClassWarfare/pseuds/MathClassWarfare
Summary: In an ethereal throne room in the afterlife, Noctis shows Luna a photo.—This takes place during part 1 of my other story,Only Human: a possible ending to FFXV.





	Picture of You

He wore his wedding clothes to his funeral. Made-to-measure more more than a decade prior, the all-black tuxedo still fit him perfectly when he took the throne to ascend to his destiny. To submit to his fate. It felt appropriate to wear these clothes, as he would soon be reunited with his fiancé. 

Lunafreya—Luna—the Oracle, his beloved childhood friend, sits beside him now in the throne room. She is luminous in her white wedding gown, awash in the strange ethereal sunlight of this place. Her smile is affectionate and sad.

“Here we are, Noctis.” She turns to him. “It is good to see you again.” 

“It’s good to see you too, Luna.” 

“If only it did not have to be like this.” 

With a soft laugh, he agrees. “Yeah . . .”

She clasps her hand on his arm and leans towards him. “You did it, my friend. You have saved our star. The scourge is no more.”

“No.” Noctis shakes his head. “We did it. You . . . and them.”

He has a single photo. It’s the four of them—Noctis, Gladio, Ignis and Prompto—smiling and posing in front of the bright yellow birds at Wiz’s Chocobo Post. They look so happy, and deceptively carefree. It wasn’t so easy back then, though. After everything, he still remembers. 

Noctis passes the photo to Luna. She holds it carefully. It is a precious thing. 

Softly, and with a smile, she says, “I wish I could have known them.” 

“Me too.” Warmth fills his voice, and his chest. “I know you would have loved them all.”

“Yes, I’m sure I would have.”

She points at the tallest of them. “That’s Gladiolus Amicitia, correct?” 

“Yeah, that’s Gladio. He was alway pushing me to be better. To keep training. To do my duty. To be a good king. It frustrated the hell out of me sometimes, but I know it’s because he believed I could.”

“He was right. And you did.”

Noctis bows his head slightly, feeling a little embarrassed. “Thanks, Luna.”

He points at the photograph again. “And Ignis, of course. He inspired me. I could never be as competent as him at, well, anything really. But I could try.” Noctis huffs out a fragment of a laugh.

“You wrote to me more than once about his excellent cooking.”

“Exactly! He kept us all fed. And he was the strategist, telling the rest of us what to do. I might have been the king, but he was really the one in charge of the whole operation.”

“And there is Prompto.”

“Yeah,” he breathes. Noctis feels a lump form in his throat, and his words catch on it. “Prompto was . . . He was . . .”

Luna places her hand gently on his shoulder. “I know that he was very important to you.”

Noctis nods emphatically and tries to translate his feelings into cogent sentences, something that’s never been easy for him. 

“He kept me going . . . when it got too be too much.” He looks at Luna, and sees that she is listening to him, attentive and patient, so he continues. 

“I used to always be under this constant, impossible, pressure. As the Crown Prince, then suddenly the King. As the Chosen. I felt it all the time, grinding me down, except when I was with Prompto. With him, I could just be a human being, you know? I could be imperfect and I knew he wouldn’t judge me.”

Luna nods. “How wonderful that you had him at your side all those years.”

Noctis squints at her as his mouth curls into a knowing smile. “I heard you might’ve had something to do with that.”

She laughs. “Just a little. You should really thank Pryna.”

Noctis reaches down to the white dog napping at their feet and scratches her between the ears. “Thanks, girl. I don’t know if I could’ve even made it through high school without him.”

Pryna blinks open her eyes, then snuggles up closer to Noctis before heavy eyelids droop closed again and she falls back asleep.

“But the things he went through because of me . . .” There’s a quaver in his voice, and the beginnings of tears. “I couldn’t protect him. Just like I couldn’t protect you.”

Luna squeezes his shoulder. “What happened to us is not your fault. The Accursed had powerful tools at his disposal.”

He takes a shaky breath. “I know that, but I shouldn’t have let him trick me.” His chest tightens around the guilt that he holds there, thinking back again on words he can never un-say to the last person he ever would have wanted to say them to. 

“And then . . .” he continues, swallowing the sob that threatens to break free from his throat. “And then as soon as we got him out of that hellhole, I disappeared.”

“That isn’t your fault either, Noctis.” She slowly rubs his back, trying her best to comfort him.

“Then when I finally returned, we never had a chance to talk about those ten years. Not really.” He sighs. 

“I would imagine you didn’t have much time. You all had to rush off and save the world.” 

“Yeah . . .” Noctis dries his eyes. “When Prompto and I did manage to get some alone time . . . there wasn’t much, uh, talking.”

Luna muffles a laugh behind her hand, and nods. “Naturally.”

Noctis had been writing to Luna about Prompto for more than 15 years, and she wholeheartedly supported their relationship.

When the Oracle and the Crown Prince had first learned about their roles in the treaty, they agreed that the marriage would be foremost a friendship and a partnership. Luna probably knew who had Noctis’s heart before Prompto himself even did.

His brief smile fades, and Noctis looks down at his hands, at the place where there once was a ring. 

“Ten years in darkness. People suffered and died, waiting for me.”

He looks back at his oldest friend, awestruck by her strength and resilience. “And you, Luna. What you went through, forging covenants with the Astrals. And each time I summoned them in battle to save myself. You lost your life because of me.” 

He hangs his head, letting his gaze drift to the floor. “And I never wanted any of it. I didn’t want to be the king, or the Chosen. All I wanted was to catch fish and play games, and spend time with the people I love.” 

Luna takes his hand again. “That is why it’s so remarkable that you fulfilled your duty, despite your reluctance.”

“I must sound like a whiney brat.” He laughs. “When you embraced your duties with such bravery and grace.” 

“Not at all.” She shakes her head. “I _did_ want to be the Oracle. I thought it was important work. I wanted to help people afflicted with the scourge. Though regrettably there was no cure, I was grateful that I could give them some comfort, and slow its spread.”

“That was huge. You helped a lot of people.”

“Of course, I also found fulfillment in helping you ascend to your destiny.” She squeezes his hand.

Noctis’s response is emphatic, his eyes wide. “And I’m so so grateful, Luna. It’s really you who saved Eos. The rest of us just played our parts, especially me.”

“No, what you said before was right,” she replies. “We all played our parts. My role was no more or less important than yours, or that of your friends, your father, or the Kingsglaive.” 

She looks down the aisle, along the red carpet scattered with blue sylleblossom petals, at two young soldiers standing guard near the door. A man and a woman, both wearing their brown hair in braids, whispering to each-other and stifling laughter.

Brightening, she says, “We achieved this together, and we should be proud of that.”

Noctis knows that she’s right. And he _is_ proud, somewhere beneath a layer of regrets, and too many things left unsaid and undone. 

“I just wish I’d had more time,” he says. “I wish I could go back.”

Her brows knit together with concern. “Were such a thing possible, I would do everything in my power to help you do it.” 

He asks her, “Would _you_ go back, if you could?”

Luna pauses to consider this. “I don’t know that I would. My family his here, and my dearest friend.” 

She beams at Noctis. 

“And I have new friends I am just getting to know.” She motions towards the Glaives, who notice that she is looking at them and return her smile.

She continues. “It _is_ a bit boring though. I have no Oracle duties here. My biggest concern is what to have for tea.” 

This makes Noctis laugh. “It’s like that song, right? Heaven is a place where nothing ever happens.”

Luna is laughing too, and shaking her head, “I don’t know that one.” 

Noctis feels a wave of affection for his sweet, brave friend. “Well, if I have to stay in this boring beautiful place I’m glad I get to be here with you, Luna.” 

He suddenly has the impulse to lean forward as if to kiss her, and she reciprocates. 

He trusts that she will know, as he does, that this kiss is neither sexual nor romantic, but driven by an overwhelming fondness. He imagines that this is what it would have been like at their wedding ceremony.

Luna rests her head on his shoulder, and Pryna is already snoring at his feet. Noctis thinks they have the right idea. He can’t imagine that anything could be better at this moment than a nap.

Just as he begins to drift off, a loud crack jolts him awake. 

When he opens his eyes, the Glaives and Pryna are gone. The throne room is darker, and dirtier. Shards of ice and crystal cover the floor in place of sylleblossom petals.

Now he and Luna are behind the throne, peering down at Noctis’s own body sitting there, encased in ice. Then they look up at the Goddess looming over their heads, and then back at one another, dumbstruck. 

The Glacian’s voice echoes throughout the cavernous room as she addresses them, and offers Noctis what he wanted—more time—so long as he does not interfere with the Prophecy. She explains that Noctis Lucis Caelum, the Chosen King, must remain dead, but the Astrals will permit him to live merely as a man.

Luna quickly squeezes Noctis’s hand, and tells him with a glance that he should accept. Together, they look back at Shiva and nod. 

It makes his heart ache to not take her with him. He kisses her on the cheek to say goodbye. When he slips back into his body, Luna disappears. 

The ice melts, and Noctis shudders back to life gasping for air. He presses his hands to his chest, expecting to find a wound from his father’s sword. All he feels are the pleats of his shirt, and the lapels of his tuxedo.

“You must go now.” Shiva’s voice rouses him from his stupor. 

He jumps up, amazed by the movement of his legs, as he scrambles out a side exit, runs down the stairs, and out a service door. 

Outside the Citadel, he crouches between two dumpsters, and takes in the scene. His city, still enduring after the battle they’d all just won, awash in sunlight. He sees no-one else on the street, but hears something approaching. The sound of familiar panting, and the _click-click-click_ of nails.

“Umbra!” Noctis scratches the dog around the neck, and pats the top of his head. “I’m so happy to see you, boy!”

He holds out one hand, and Umbra gives him some paw. 

“Good boy!” 

Noctis thanks the Astrals that he won’t be completely alone.

Now he just has to figure out how to build a life, while maintaining the legend of his death. The first step is to get away from the Citadel and the people who will recognize him— the people he most wants to see. 

Steeling his resolve, the man who is no longer king ventures out into the city— and into obscurity—with a dog trotting at his heels.

**Author's Note:**

> Noctis was talking about [this song.](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=sZpZuIWu1tw&feature=youtu.be)
> 
> For the title, I was thinking about [this song.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CK3uf5V0pDA)


End file.
